


You Wouldn't Like Me When I'm Angry

by PepperySkin



Category: Supernatural
Genre: BDSM, Demon!Dean, Dominance, King!Crowley, M/M, Slapping, Spanking, bottom!Crowley, dean taking control, top!dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-25
Updated: 2014-09-25
Packaged: 2018-02-18 18:39:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,464
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2358188
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PepperySkin/pseuds/PepperySkin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Crowley might be the king of hell, but Dean calls him 'bitch' for a reason. He's Dean's bitch."</p><p>Request fill for annon. Demon Dean teaches Crowley a lesson in control.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Wouldn't Like Me When I'm Angry

**Author's Note:**

> My first ever request fill!
> 
> Demon Dean and some BDSM just kind of sort of happened. Super fun to write! It was quick too, took me just a day to write it. 
> 
> Drowley/Crowlean requests are open! Find me at http://vulcanpride.tumblr.com/

Dean opened the obsidian black doors to Crowley’s throne room. The room was made of rocks and boulders making it almost look like a cave. There were no lights except for huge roaring fires to either side of the throne room, magically put there by someone long ago. The talking stopped immediately as he entered the room and no one made eye contact with him except for Crowley, who sat on his throne smiling at Dean. He knew they had been talking about him. There were several demons there; men and women looking terrified and small, no doubt asking Crowley to reign his control over his dog. To make him stop -- to make his pet _behave_.

Dean wasn't Crowley's dog anymore and _no one_ tells Dean what to do. They were going to find out soon enough who really ran the show here. Crowley was _his_ bitch now.

“Leave us.” Dean’s black eyes shined, reflecting the light of the fire; a dark look imprinted on his handsome face.

The demons couldn't get out of the room fast enough. Crowley remained on his throne, silent and patient. The door shut with a click, and the two of them stared at each other for a moment.

“You were talking about me.” Dean spoke softly but Crowley could hear the anger in his voice. Like a snake with venom waiting to strike.

“ _They_ were talking about you, Love. I was _listening_. Apparently you've been terrorizing the troops. They want me to do something about it.”

Dean laughed darkly and walked up to Crowley, putting his hands to either side of him, invading his space, his lips stopping within inches of Crowley’s own. Crowley’s eyes darted to those perfect bow lips, unable to help himself.

“ _And what are you going to do about it_?” He could feel Crowley shudder with excitement, his cheeks turning pink, his hardon visible through his trousers. He looked to Dean mischievously, openly disobedient.

“As your ruler and King I command you to stop and _behave_.” It was a tease, a mistake. Dean swiftly slapped him on the face, leaving a faint red mark on Crowley's cheek, but Crowley still had a smirk on his face and defiance in his eyes.

“You little bitch --” Dean grabbed him by the back of the head, pulled him in for a rough kiss, making sure to bite his lip hard enough to make Crowley whine before pulling back and staring at him with those fierce dark eyes.

“It looks like you've forgotten who's in charge around here. _Let me remind you_.” Without any warning he grabbed Crowley by the shirt and threw him over the arm of his throne so his ass was in the air and his legs almost dangled off the side. He ripped at his pants, his demonic strength having no problem ripping through Crowley’s leather belt and armani suit. No time for romance, no time for pleasure. This was about establishing dominance.

Dean spanked Crowley hard, not bothering to warm up, alternating cheeks and keeping a steady and brutal pace. He wasn't playing around, Crowley was being punished for his disobedience. It was on the 11th spank, Crowley’s ass a deep red and his knees seemingly starting to shake, that Dean heard a broken whisper.

“ _Please_.”

Dean spanked him once last time, harder than before making Crowley cry out. “What was that, _slut_? Speak up.”  Dean caressed the red marks with his finger tips. It tickled and Crowley flinched and wiggled in response. Dean smiled a dark smile.

“ _Please . . . I’m sorry, Dean! Please . . . please . . ._ ” 

“Good boy,” he groaned, shoving two fingers into Crowley’s mouth. “Suck them, _you little whore_.” And with a happy moan, Crowley licked and sucked Dean’s fingers knowing it would be all the lube Dean would use.

Dean shoved the two fingers into Crowley, pleased that he was still partially wet and stretched from the previous night when he got Crowley riled up and shoved a butt plug in him before leaving him horny and alone while Dean went out to the bar for the night.

He slapped Crowley’s ass while he scissored him and told him the most dirty things. “ _You little fucking slut, you love this don’t you? If I hear you talking shit about me again I’ll tie you up and play with you for days but I won’t let you cum even once. You fucking listening to me, whore_?”

Crowley practically choked in response, “Yes, sir. Anything you say . . . “ He shoved his ass out further, Dean groaned at the sight and without further hesitation thrusted his achingly hard cock into Crowley’s ass. He buried himself to the hilt before pulling back and thrusting forward with a snap, Crowley crying out in surprise, murmuring little praises “ _yes, please, please_ ”.

Dean practically growled, shoving Crowley awkwardly further into the seat with his arms tangled in his suit jacket. Dean slammed his hips forward harshly, his voice low and dark, “Did I say you could talk? _I_ tell you when you can talk you bitch. _I_ tell you when to cum, _I_ tell you when _you’re_ misbehaving . . .  And you'll listen to me because it feels so nice to lay back and your _master_ take over.”

Almost to make his point he slammed his hips harder into Crowley, keeping a steady pace and slamming straight into Crowley’s prostate. Crowley had to be on the tips of his toes for Dean to fuck him because of the height difference. Dean sped up his pace and eventually Crowley gave up trying to stand, letting his body dangle off the side of the throne as Dean grabbed his hips and slammed into him, each time making Crowley cry out in pleasure.

Dean suddenly pulled out, grabbing Crowley and forcing him to his knees. Dean sat in the throne and grabbed Crowley's hair to bring his face to his cock. He slapped Crowley in the face with his hand, then with his cock several times, groaning at the whorish noises Crowley made trying to catch it in his mouth.

“Make me cum you whore and maybe I’ll let you cum. Suck me off, bitch.”

Crowley hummed in happiness and swallowed Dean down in one thrust. He sucked him off with such earnest that each time he pulled off there was a slight popping sound. Dean watched through hooded lids as Crowley used his long tongue, wrapping it around the head of Dean’s cock, licking at the sensitive spot along the ridge of the head. Dean couldn’t take it for much longer, he started thrusting up into Crowley’s mouth, holding the back of his head for leverage and to keep Crowley in his place. He let Crowley up for some air, and he made a sort of needy whine.

“Speak.”

“Let me -- let me ride you, _please, honey, please_.” Dean nodded and grabbed the base of his cock, watching eagerly as Crowley positioned himself and sat down on Dean’s throbbing cock. The two moaned at the connection and suddenly Dean grabbed Crowley’s ass cheeks, pulling them apart, before thrusting up into him, loving the sound of their skin slapping together as they fucked. Crowley did his best to wriggle his hips, trying to grind against that sweet spot buried inside, but Dean wouldn’t let him have much control. Dean continued to squeeze and grab at Crowley’s full physique, pushing him to different angles thrusting his cock over and over and over again until Dean was red in the face, moaning lowly, his voice rough like gravel.

He suddenly stood up but continued to pound into Crowley, laughing softly at how surprised his King was and how he had to wrap his short legs around Dean tightly, grabbing onto his jacket for support. Crowley came like this, hoisted up in the air by Dean, a cock thrusted up his ass. He moaned loud enough to echo through the dark room, his sweat glistened in the fire’s light.

Dean plopped Crowley back down in his throne, bending over and kissing him roughly, then pulling back to jerk himself off over the spent King, slapping him once again to wipe the smirk off his face.

“I”m going to cum all over your face, _you little bitch_. I want you to remember who’s in charge here, otherwise the next time you _piss me off_ I’m going to tie you up, have my way with you and leave you in here so all your followers -- everyone loyal to you -- can see what kind of . . .  _whore_ you are  . . . for me.”

Choking out that last bit, Dean came all over Crowley's face and chest, thick streams of cum marking what was his. Crowley reveled in it, his eyes fluttering closed and Dean heard him take a sharp intake of breath.

“Promise?”


End file.
